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Had things gone differently this year, we would have recently landed in Taiwan, on our way to Thailand, after an overnight flight. I'd be wandering around the terminal, making a pilgrimage to the Hello Kitty gate (C3), and thinking about getting some noodles before our next flight to Bangkok. I'd be tired, but not too tired. I don't mind those long flights.
Because things did go differently, I am at home, sitting in my back yard, watching the hummingbirds flitting around, smelling the jasmine, listening to some music, and waiting for my coals to get right so I can slow cook some ribs.
Some flower that grew all on its own without any help from us. I used to know what this was called, but have since forgotten.
We have a couple of days left of this beautiful weather before the temps go up to above 100 later this week. I will do most of my outside stuff in the early mornings, then retreat to figure out what to do about my office, and all the boxes of stuff I had to bring home.
Francis of the Back Yard. He came from my grandfather's garden, and is probably older than I am.
A hummingbird just flew up and hovered within a foot or two of my face, checking me out. It wasn't the alpha hummingbird, the one with the iridescent red throat. The trumpet vine along our garden path is about to bust out in flowers, and then the hummingbirds will be all over the place.
It's been quite a while since I spent the whole summer at home. I'm kind of looking forward to it.
Because things did go differently, I am at home, sitting in my back yard, watching the hummingbirds flitting around, smelling the jasmine, listening to some music, and waiting for my coals to get right so I can slow cook some ribs.
Some flower that grew all on its own without any help from us. I used to know what this was called, but have since forgotten.
We have a couple of days left of this beautiful weather before the temps go up to above 100 later this week. I will do most of my outside stuff in the early mornings, then retreat to figure out what to do about my office, and all the boxes of stuff I had to bring home.
Francis of the Back Yard. He came from my grandfather's garden, and is probably older than I am.
A hummingbird just flew up and hovered within a foot or two of my face, checking me out. It wasn't the alpha hummingbird, the one with the iridescent red throat. The trumpet vine along our garden path is about to bust out in flowers, and then the hummingbirds will be all over the place.
It's been quite a while since I spent the whole summer at home. I'm kind of looking forward to it.
